Make It A Strength
by NellietheMarvelous
Summary: Slight Watershed Spoilers. Only things from the promo. Basically AU from there. A twist on a fix-it fic. 'A month of waiting for some sort of sign from the universe - yes, he's rubbed off on her that much - and if this isn't one, she doesn't know what is. It's a slap in the face. That one word that blinks back at her from four different sources. Pregnant. She's going home.'
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. I trust in Marlowe...even when he stomps my heart into the dirt sometimes.  
**

**A/N: I randomly have Castle dreams - what? not my fault - and this is what happened last night. It's been stuck in my head since then so I thought I'd write it down, see where it goes. Jump on board if ya like. The beginning might seem sad but trust me - this story is going to end up being another fluff ball. Because I need it to deal with the hiatus. And I have enough angst in my other story And She Cries right now.  
**

**Minor Watershed spoilers. Nothing more than the promo shows. Goes AU from there.**

She left. She really left him back in New York City and she's here in DC, acting like this is okay but it's not. Nothing is okay. She made a mistake. She's not happy here, she misses him, she misses Martha and Alexis, the boys, Lanie - she misses her family. Their family. What the hell is wrong with her? Why did she do this? Because it's a good opportunity? Yeah, well, so is he. He's worth everything and she hates herself for leaving. So he was angry and he said things, she should have stayed, worked through it instead of tucking tail and running because she said things too. She failed.

It angers her that she still does this. Doubts. Runs. Keeps secrets. Hides. She loves him and this isn't where she belongs. This apartment is cold, even with all of her things in it. It's just empty. He's not here. He doesn't visit. It's been a month. She text him a few times, he replied twice. She called, he let it go to voice mail and she doesn't blame him a bit. She ripped his heart out like it was nothing - chose a job over him and she _knows _how that feels.

And now this.

She draws her knees up to rest her feet on the lid of the toilet, wraps her arms around her legs and drops her head against them. Curling up, trying to think, to process. This is happening. She needs to go home. To him. To her family. This isn't what she wants. She's never wanted _this_. To be alone and miserable. She got scared. Afraid that he'd tire of her so she sprinted as soon as the opportunity presented itself. And she hates that about herself.

But there's no running from this. No hiding away and pretending. She has to face it, let it sink in - she needs to go home. She can't do this anymore. Her chest aches when she thinks of him. Every morning when she wakes she reaches across the bed, forgetting he's not on the other side and she just can't. Not anymore. There's no reason to do this - to be away from him.

She misses everything. The way he'd make her coffee. How he'd bring her breakfast in bed, wake her with slow warm kisses that trailed from her cheek, to her lips, down her neck. The burn of his stubble. The feel of his hands gripping her hips when they just couldn't quite make it to the bed before their clothes came off. And those times the clothes didn't even manage to come off, just tugged to the side, left pooling at the knees, frenzied passion that incinerated every cell in her body.

She misses his smile. The soft one, the one he gave her when she managed to amaze him. She misses the feel of his hair beneath her fingertips and the silk of his mouth against her own. She misses the warmth of his body when she sleeps, the weight of his hand when they spoon together. The press of him in the shower, the playful singing matches they had to see who remembers the words the best. Playing with his toys - giving him a hard time when he'd fly his helicopter around her head for the fun of it. She misses all of it.

Their fights. The arguments that would end in one of them leaving the room to cool down for a bit or going home and the apologies that came soon after in the form of coffee or whispered words. Sometimes frantic heated touch was all they needed.

She remembers their last time. Against her door, boxes packed around them. It was anger and hurt, frustration and tears, a 'don't go' and a whisper of 'I love you'. She should've led him to the bedroom, reassured him. Instead she did nothing. Panted into his shoulder, clawed at his back, gave him one last time. She wants to take it back. They shouldn't have a _last. _She wishes things were different. She's going to make them different. He deserves that. She's going home. His home.

She wipes at the tears on her cheeks, looks over at the sink. Still there. She needs him. She's never stopped needing him and it's eating away at her. Like acid in her soul. She'll become a shell of herself. Broken and empty without him. She's already there. It's already happened. She's not the same when he isn't around. His voice. She misses it.

The heat of his breath against her ear, the gruff tone he slipped into early in the morning or late at night. She wants that back. She never should've done this. What the fuck was she thinking? She wasn't. That's the only explanation. She thought she was but she wasn't. She didn't realize it would hurt this bad. A month. She's been in hell, misery, for a month. For what? A damn job?

She's a screw up. That's what she feels like. She can't do anything right. He was there for her and she hid things, kept this from him. She just walked away with a promise to visit. Some naive part of her wanted to think they could do this, make a relationship work with her in a different city. But she isn't stupid. Well, not anymore.

With a growl she drops her feet to the floor and grabs the items from the counter. She's doing this. She's going back to him because clearly she isn't as strong as she thinks. She does need him. He makes her better. He helps her. He's her_ partner_. And she needs him.

A month of waiting for some sort of sign from the universe - yes, he's rubbed off on her that much - and if this isn't one, she doesn't know what is. It's a slap in the face. That one word that blinks back at her from four different sources. Pregnant.

She's pregnant. It hits her all at once. The force of it sinking in until she's stumbling through the bedroom and grabbing a suitcase from the closet. She's going home. She never should've left in the first place. She wanted commitment, a reason to stay and just because he didn't see it, she got on that plane. She's done pretending. Done with the tears and the constant constriction in her chest. She wants more but she didn't fight for it. That's what a real relationship is. It's fighting, struggling, making it better, forgiveness, and being happy with the other person. She's happy with Castle and she didn't fight for it. He did. He tried.

She doesn't blame him for giving up. Maybe she does just a little. He didn't really fight either - oh they fought, but not for the right reason. He just watched her leave. But this is it. This is her chance to prove that he's what she wants. She bought a ticket a week ago when he didn't answer his phone and she's cashing it in now. She'd been thinking of this - going home - for weeks and now there's nothing, absolutely no reason to stay but there's a big reason to go. She loves him. And she wants a family _with _him. That's really all she's been wanting. A promise of a future and that their relationship is serious but it's something he couldn't give.

She's going back to fight for it.

* * *

He misses her. Everything about her. The smell of cherries that lingers on his pillows only makes it stronger. He can't bring himself to wash the sheets because then she'll be gone. But she already is. The pang in his chest always reminds him. She left. She chose and he wasn't it. As much as it burns, stings, oozes, he's not just angry at her but at himself too.

Maybe there was something he could have said or done. Maybe if they hadn't turned on one another and declared a shouting war every time the subject came up. Maybe.

It doesn't matter anymore because he's done with feeling like this. There is something more he can do. He can go after her, make her see that he's not giving up just because of one thing. One fight. Epic in proportions as it was, he's going to fight her for the right reasons. He loves her and she loves him. In his mind, that's what matters.

His suitcase is already half packed, lying open on the mattress. He shoves a shirt in it - the one she likes to wear. It's been lying in the floor for all this time, where it landed the night he peeled it off of her after she _just _put it on. He misses the feel of her skin. Soft and smooth until it puckers from the scars she's been burdened with. The way she would read in bed until he was begging her to just turn off the lamp and go to sleep. She gets so invested in the fictional world the words paint that she loses all track of reality, time, everything and he misses it.

He dreams about her. Before they got together he'd have a fantasy, maybe something sexual would haunt his nights but it changed over time. His brain started thinking of her as more and it became things he hoped would happen. Dates, movie nights, an occasional nightmare of losing her. It's worse now. He wants to wake up, reach over and pull her body against his instead of using her pillow as a substitute cuddling partner. She's warmer and softer than any pillow he could buy.

A month and he's done playing. He can't do it anymore. He thought maybe he'd get over it, move on, but no. She's not the kind you forget over time. She's the kind you marry. And he knows now that he should have made that more clear to her. He shouldn't have pushed so hard against her. He could've supported her. She's tried to keep in contact - like she promised - but he's been so blinded, hurt, unable to respond. He answered her messages a few times but his heart wasn't in it.

She sent a picture of something she saw - said it reminded her of him. He doesn't even remember what it was but it's saved in his phone. He's going after her. He doesn't really have much of a plan once he gets there. He doesn't want to fight with her about it anymore. He's all fought out. He just wants to make her see that their relationship is worth more than this. Make her understand how badly it hurts.

It's late when he zips up the suitcase. His flight leaves early in the morning and he really should get some sleep but instead he's grabbing his phone from the nightstand, settling back against his headboard and scrolling through pictures.

She's different when she's with him. She's this fun, flirty, naughty, extraordinary woman. He has pictures to prove it. One of her playing a video game, sunk down into the chair with her tongue poking out between her teeth, face furrowed in concentration as her fingers worked over the control. Another of her kneeling above him, sexy eyes, playful lips, a hand in her hair. He swears he could get off just by watching her sweep her locks back multiple times. It's like hair porn.

He really likes it - likes that she's wearing the red lingerie but what he really _loves _about the photo is the smile on her face. Bright and vibrant, just full of this unbridled happiness. He wants it back. Maybe he shouldn't. He doesn't even know. Maybe he should be done, just give up because she walked away but he can't. And he didn't stop her. It takes two people to screw up in this circumstance and she certainly wasn't alone.

He could call her, just to hear her voice. He misses it too. He taps the button, returns to the home screen on his phone. She's called him before but he didn't answer. What if she does the same? It doesn't matter. He needs to talk to her. Apologize for a few things he said. Most of it he stands by but there were some low blows thrown before she left and he regrets those.

A relationship is work. It's give and take. It's forgiveness and admitting mistakes. He's willing to get through this if she'll meet him half way. They've been through tough times before. He presses call when he gets to her name, raises the phone to his ear. Listens as it rings. With each one, he convinces himself she won't answer but just before a third, he hears her voice.

_"Castle," _It's a breathy whisper and it tears him to shreds. He blanks, doesn't know what to say now that he's got her on the line. He swallows roughly, runs a hand over his face. She answered. She actually...okay. _"Castle?"_

"Hi."

_"Hey." _Silence stretches between them, he doesn't know what to do with it. Isn't sure why she won't say anything. It's awkward, feels forced and he hates it. They really screwed up this time around.

"I don't want to argue. I'm coming to see you, my flight leaves in the morning. Think you could pick me up from the airport?" He hears her breath stutter, listens as she hums into the phone.

_"Actually I can't. And I don't think you should go to DC." _His heart stops, freezes in his chest. If this is the 'official' breakup, he's not sure he can handle it. He doesn't want it to be over, even though it's technically been over since she left. Nothing comes after that. The phone is silent, she's silent. Then a click and he's hearing nothing.

She ended the call. She hung up. He's about to call her back, demand some type of answers but there's a soft tapping sound coming from the living room. He leaves the phone on the bed, gets up to investigate. He hears it again, louder this time and it's a knock. Someone is knocking on the door. He walks faster, hears metal scraping against metal when he makes it to the couch. A key in a lock.

He gets ready to greet his mother or Alexis but when the door opens, his heart jump starts. Pounds against his ribs, shredding his soul into pieces. The hair is the first thing he notices. Not red but soft waves of caramel. He knows just how soft. He's had those strands wrapped around his fingers so many times, he knows exactly how silky they are.

Her eyes, shining and red with tears are what convince him this isn't a dream. He didn't fall asleep. His mind isn't torturing him. She's here. She's standing in front of him wearing one of his shirts and a pair of jeans - showing him this goes both ways. She stole his shirt. She's scared. He knows by the way she pushes her hair behind her ear, glances down at her feet. She's uncomfortable.

"I - I knocked but uh - I just..."

"Kate." It's nothing more than a whisper but it gets her attention. Brings those eyes back up to meet his. And he remembers to breathe.

**a/n: So people are hating on Beckett because of all this Watershed stuff...STOP IT! Seriously. She's my favorite and things are going to be fine. Relationships have bumps, this is one, and they'll get over it. Until then, there's fanfiction. :D**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Not today.  
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**A/N: You guys rock! That is all. Took forever to reply to all those reviews but it was worth every second. Seriously awesome.  
**

It was a good idea. Being here, coming home, standing in his living room but she doesn't really know what to do now. She needs to tell him things, apologize, make him understand. There's so much to say and yet, no words escape. Her mouth stays shut, eyes set on his as he just stares at her. It's as if he isn't sure she's real, like she's about to disappear. Just a mirage his mind is creating. She knows how he feels because she's still not entirely sure this isn't a dream of some sort - a way for her mind to rip her heart out of her chest.

She wants to go to him, wrap her arms around him, just do something. But she doesn't. It's not right. They need to talk and she needs to tell him about the fact that he's helped create a life within her. She needs to speak, just open her mouth.

Her teeth bite into her lip instead, her tongue soothes over it and she watches his gaze drop to follow the movement. He gulps, shakes his head as if that will help him think clearly. It's when he makes a sound in the back of his throat, something between a growl of frustration and a whimper of despair that she breaks. She doesn't care that a tear leaks from the corner of her eye or that she's standing here awkwardly holding onto the handle of her suitcase as if it's a lifeline. As if it will help her through this.

"I never should've left." Her voice cracks, gets his attention, and she carries on. She needs to get this out. "I just thought we should be further - more_ in_ this relationship instead of coasting along. I thought it would be a good idea to advance my career, open up opportunities but god, Rick, I didn't mean without you."

"That's the way you made it seem." Her stomach rolls uncomfortably at the tone of his voice. Broken hearted, completely raw.

"It's my life, my choice, and I'm choosing to be here. To give up a great job because it doesn't mean anything to me. You do." She nudges closer, just a shuffle of her feet across his floor but it's something.

"It hurt, to know you would...I just didn't understand. I didn't want to think of you leaving and our relationship ending and I'm not proud of the way I reacted." The sincerity in him is practically pouring out. She can see it. Bright. Clear.

"I didn't react too well either. I guess I just hoped you'd be happy for me, support me because it's an honor to even be considered for -"

"I know. And I am proud, Kate. How many times have I told you that you're extraordinary?" She almost smiles but it's not the right time. Instead she takes another step. Works on closing the Grand Canyon sized emotional gap between them.

"I miss you."

"I'm still angry." She knows that. She does and she knows it's not going to be an overnight fix. Not after something like this. It's been a month. A month of not working it out. A month of ignoring it, ignoring each other. It's been hell. And she doesn't want to pretend things are okay now. She absolutely wants his honesty because if they stick a band-aid on this and call it good it will come back later and mess everything up.

She doesn't want that. She wants to work for it, hash through this the hard way if that's what it takes to get it right. He's the one to inch closer this time and she's pretty sure he isn't even aware of the fact that he's taking two steps toward her. His hand rubs over the back of his neck as he stops a foot away and his eyes dart to the couch.

She knows what he's thinking, what he doesn't say. She leaves her suitcase and follows as he leads them over to sit down. This isn't the kind of conversation you have while standing. It could take hours. No, it will take hours, days, weeks of figuring things out. And he still doesn't have a clue about the baby. It seems unreal, something in a dream or a movie to even think about. A baby. There's a _baby_. Oh wow, she's carrying a child. Castle's baby.

It sucks the air out of her lungs as she drops suddenly onto the cushion. She hasn't given it much thought but it full-on smacks her in the face right now. She was only thinking of him and fixing everything. The distant thought of pregnancy loomed but now it's front and center. She stares down at her hands, twists her fingers together in her lap. She doesn't want him thinking she only came back because she found out she's pregnant with his kid. That will only make things worse so she needs to figure out a way to say exactly what she's feeling, why she's here.

This has never been a strong point for her. She sucks at it. She just sucks at relationships in general. She always says the wrong thing, makes the wrong move - rather literal in this case. And to be honest, she's still angry too. She just loves him enough to mold it into something else. To try to understand what's going on.

How did everything get so fucked up? She remembers a year ago. Battling her demons, slaying them until she was ready to take a leap. She didn't look before she jumped, didn't care if she fell a thousand feet because all she wanted was him. It feels like yesterday and yet, it feels like it was so long ago. Now they're here. Struggling for words on opposite ends of the couch because of mistakes made, promises broken. And she's _pregnant_.

"Castle I need you to know that I bought a ticket home a couple weeks ago." She stresses, hopes he understands what she's trying to get across. Weeks ago. Before she found out. She's getting more nervous by the second. Her palms are starting to sweat. It's on the tip of her tongue because she isn't keeping secrets about this and every minute that passes she feels like that's exactly what she's doing. "I'm coming home. I don't want to be there anymore because _this _is where I belong."

"I don't know what to say, I don't know what you want me to say. I'm conflicted. I miss you, I want you here but we need to really discuss things. There's no jumping right back into this like you never walked away."

"I know that." She's trying. She's trying so hard to remain calm but her hands are starting to tremble and she feels really cold for some reason. As if her body is starving for his warmth. She wants to open her mouth just tell him but she chokes on the words, stumbles to even breathe. As soon as it's out, it's real. All of it is real. "There's something I need to tell you."

There's still so much mending to do but she has to start with this. She has to be honest and she'd never keep this from him. But the words she needs just refuse to come. She pushes up from the couch, walks over to her suitcase. She's done with failing to communicate. She'll just show him. She keeps the test hidden in her hands as she returns to his side.

Expelling a sigh from her lungs she drops back down on the couch, takes in the way he's looking at her. God, she's missed those eyes, the furrow of his brow, the way his lips set in a thin line when he's upset or unsure of what's going on. She wants to reach out and grab his hand. She aches for it, just a touch. So she does. And she curses herself when he flinches and curls his fingers into his palm.

If he'd look, he would already be able see what she's holding but he's too focused on her face. She missed that too. Feeling him stare. She bites her lip, tugs on his fingers until he opens his fist and then she's placing the plastic in his hand.

It gets his attention. Her heart is racing as he looks down, pounding in her chest when his eyes widen at the realization of what he's holding, beating a rhythm that's sure will be the death of her as he frowns.

* * *

One second he's caught in her haunted eyes, losing himself down the rabbit hole, not even caring that as soon as he hits ground, he'll be left aching. He isn't Alice. This isn't Wonderland. A split second is all it takes and he's smacking the dirt. As soon as he drags his gaze from her face to glance quizzically at the item she's placed in his hand, he feels it.

Oh._ Oh. _Hello mouth full of dirt. It's a...oh. She's - he's - what? He knows what this is, he knows what it means but he's completely off balance. And then it hits him. This is why she's back.

Anger flares in his blood, makes him clench his fingers around the little white stick. She's...she came back because she's - he can't even. His thoughts are a mess and he knows he's tensing, straightening his shoulders in preparation for the storm about to hit. He doesn't know what to say, has no idea what's actually happening right now outside of his brain.

Of all the things he's been expecting, this is not one of them.

"Are you sure?" It's the first coherent thing out of his mouth and even he shivers at the cold bite of it.

"Y-yeah, I took four of them." He closes his eyes, drags a hand down over his face and when he opens them again, she's still watching him. Her eyes almost hopeful. Still filled with a fear that melts him. His muscles relax, shoulders dropping, throat bobbing around the lump that's forming.

"This isn't the only reason you came back, is it?"

"No. I just found out this morning." He almost fights her on it, demands more but it clicks in his head. She said she bought a ticket weeks ago. A sense of relief flood his system. He looks back down at his hand, reads the word again and again and at least four more times before it sinks in. She's pregnant. He's going to be a dad. They made a baby. And even though it shouldn't, it makes him a bit giddy to think he got Kate Beckett pregnant with his child.

The rational side kicks in. She's pregnant. They didn't plan this. He doesn't even know if she's happy about it. He thinks he is - no he knows. It's a child. He _knows _what a blessing a baby is. But they aren't on the most solid of foundations right now, in fact it's crumbling, cracked and he's not sure how they'll glue it back together. They have to try. Not just because there's another human being involved, but because it's what he wants. It's the reason he has a ticket to fly to DC in the morning. He should probably get a refund on that.

"The silence isn't comforting right now, Castle." There's a wisp of a smile at the corners of her mouth. Just a soft tilt that could easily be missed but he sees it.

"You're pregnant." He nods as he says it out loud, hears her as she sucks in a large amount of air.

"Yeah." He could sit here all night, demand answers from her, poke at her until they're both so raw that they just can't discuss any of it any further. He won't. For the first time he notices how tired she looks, the dark circles under her eyes that he knows match his own. He'll postpone the rest until tomorrow because it's clear that they both need the rest.

"You hungry?"

"Wha -"

"I just thought maybe you'd be hungry."

"A little." He's off the couch before she can say another word, heading into the kitchen. Arms immediately seeking the door to the fridge.

"There's spaghetti, I'll heat you up some and we can continue this." He may be frustrated and hurt but he's not a complete jackass.

"I uh - that's really sweet of you Castle, but I need to see about booking a room the night."

"Stay here." Even from where he's standing he can see the surprise in her eyes. The way her eyebrows shoot up towards the ceiling. He wouldn't offer if he didn't mean it. And he does mean it. Just because they're not quite _there _yet doesn't mean he's going to kick her out for the night. She doesn't have anywhere to really go besides a motel. He supposes she could go stay with her father for a night but that's not the point. Her apartment is gone.

"Are you just offering because -"

"No, I'm offering because we need to keep going with this conversation and it seems there's a bigger talk we need to have. It's easier if you stay." She seems to accept his reply, grows quiet as he heats the food. He needs to know if she's upset about being pregnant. Maybe it'll finally set in. The fact that she's...it just seems so strange. All of this does. They used to be happy and then all of it blew up in their faces.

He still loves her. That's the reason he's making her a plate, the reason he wants to talk to her about everything. Is he still angry? Yeah. Is he still hurt and confused? Hell yes but bigger things are at stake. Their relationship is one of them. He wants it back. Maybe not right away, he still hasn't even offered her a hug, she hasn't either. Things are still too pink, too raw, too tender.

They'll do this. She'll eat, they'll go to bed, and tomorrow things will look different. He just hopes she's real, that he isn't going to wake up to an empty loft. He's pretty sure he's not dreaming, there's too many emotions, too many sensations and she's never been like this in any of his dreams. She's never shown up after a month of being gone to tell him she made a mistake.

She's never looked so tired, so sad. She's never smelled of airplane - a mix of recycled air and other people's body odor. She's never been this real. It's a pretty safe bet that he'll wake up in the morning and she'll still be here.

**a/n: The fact that she's pregnant actually _hits _Castle in the next chapter. He's still in a bit of shock atm. Also, for those who read Number One, there's a sequel I started yesterday called Two Hearts. Check it out.  
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	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Just no.  
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**A/N: It's Castle Monday...I'm not okay. But I'm also looking forward to Watershed...but also not really. Only Marlowe can mess with my feelings in such a way. Thanks man.  
**

He doesn't sleep much but she does. After putting up a feeble fight, she relinquished and agreed that sharing a bed wasn't a big deal. Considering they'd been sharing for a year before she left. It's almost five in the morning and he's still on his side, watching her breathe in the darkness of the bedroom. She's facing him, it's how she fell asleep and she hasn't even wiggled much. Just an occasional sigh, a twitch of muscle right at the corner of her mouth, the way she kicks sometimes at an invisible foe.

He's been dozing since midnight, in and out. Always startling himself awake to make sure she's still on her side of the bed. She is. She's even kicked the blankets to the bottom of the mattress. She does that a lot. She goes to sleep with them pulled all the way up to her chin but as soon as she's submerged in slumber she starts slowly working them down with her legs until they're a heap. He's missed her - missed this.

And now. Now there's more than just her, more than just him. There's...his eyes drift down to her middle, the patch of skin that's showing between her shirt and her pajama pants. He chokes out a breath, realizes that his eyes are filling with moisture. There's a baby. Oh god. Oh. His hand reaches for her but pauses the second he remembers. They haven't touched, not since she left. He wants to. He just wants to and she's asleep anyway.

He lets his fingers brush against her shirt first and darts his eyes back up to make sure it doesn't wake her. It doesn't. She's still out. He shifts closer, leaving only about three inches between their bodies. As if even in sleep she's aware of him, she rolls on her back - her shirt rising - and he's presented with the perfect opportunity.

There's only one thing on his mind. Baby. Baby._ Baby_. The bare skin of her lower abdomen calls and he's powerless to resist it's pull. He gently rests his hand below her navel, just above the waistband of her pants. He swallows roughly, trying to get rid of the tightness in his chest. If anything it worsens and his vision blurs. It shouldn't be like this. He shouldn't be unsure. He shouldn't be touching her like this when they're still figuring things out but he just needs to. To prove to himself that she's here, that this is real.

Her skin feels the same. Hot and like silk beneath the pads of his fingers. He shouldn't have let his traitorous hand anywhere near her because now he wants to wrap his arms around her, pull her closer, just breathe her in. Maybe she was right. Maybe she should have slept elsewhere. But he won't take it back, won't retreat. His thumb brushes lower, hitting the fabric of her pants and he's still staring.

His chest feels compressed by an unknown force, something powerful that makes it hard to breathe. It's hitting him. A freight train of emotion rushing through his system and he chokes on it. Something that's the mix of a cough and a sigh of acceptance. It's a gunshot in the silence, startles her awake before he has the time to remove his hand.

Her eyes fly open, forehead scrunching and then she's moving closer and he feels some of the pieces come together. She touches the back of his hand, pressing it deeper into her skin.

"Oh, Castle." This isn't a fix. It's not helping and he pulls his arm back to his side. He sits up, needing to put some distance between them. She follows and he wants to growl, push her away but he doesn't. Why would he? It's been a month. A month of thinking she wouldn't come back, of thinking he'd lost the only woman he really loved.

He wipes a hand over his eyes, rests his elbows on his knees and drops his head. It'd be easy. He could kiss her right now, fall back into things, get lost in the comfort of her body but he won't. Because it isn't supposed to be easy. It shouldn't be. He can feel her eyes, knows she's watching him, probably biting the inside of her cheek, gnawing it between her teeth but she isn't touching him.

She's sitting next to him, crossing her legs and turning to face him but she's giving him about a foot of space. It shatters him all over again. They aren't like this. They don't do space when in bed. They do limbs tangled, bodies pressing, awkwardly uncomfortable contortionist positions that leave them with kinks in all the wrong places. That's how they lie, how they sleep, how they make love.

"Sorry, I just...it just hit me. That there's a baby. You're carrying my child and I wasn't thinking. I just needed to touch you - touch...the...I'm sorry." It's the only explanation he can give but it's honest.

"S'okay. You don't have to apologize." He gives in, turns until he's in the same position she is. Legs crossed, facing one another, elbows on their knees, bodies leaning towards each other. "It hit me on the plane. Pretty sure the flight attendant thought I was going to hyperventilate."

Her smile is poking through the seriousness, shy and shaky. He barely sees it in the dark but he wants to see more of her. Not just shadows and sharp lines illuminated by the moon. He reaches behind himself, turns on the lamp to light the room. Both of them blink against it, adjust their eyes. It's obvious neither of them are going back to sleep so he's seizing the moment.

She looks better. More rested.

"Kate,"

"I actually thought I might hyperventilate too." She's soft as she says it. Voice a silky velvet rasp, body relaxing and limbs turning liquid. He's still amazed by her. "Since neither of us are going to be able to sleep now, I think we can continue our talk."

"When did you suspect that you were pregnant?" It's not the question he's wanting to ask but it's the one that pops out.

"Couple days ago." His brow furrows as he watches her duck her head, pick at her nails. She tried to call him a couple days ago. It was a Tuesday.

"Tuesday?" She nods and his heart sinks into the pit of his stomach. They've both made so many wrong choices.

"Don't beat yourself up, Castle, you didn't know. I didn't even know for sure, it was just a suspicion."

"But I would have if I'd answered."

"And we wouldn't be here if I hadn't left." He sees her point. He does but it's the way her voice cracks that pulls at him. Twists him into a harsh mess of pain. "We...we wouldn't - I'm sorry and I know it's not enough. It's never going to be enough but I am."

She's chewing on the inside of her cheek again. Her eyes now red rimmed and filled with tears and he finds his eyes drifting down again, settling on her stomach which is ridiculous because he knows the tiny baby is much lower. He feels the dam inside burst, what started as a crack the moment she stepped into the loft, became a persistent leak the moment she pressed the test into his palm is now splintering into pieces with the water gushing out in a rush.

He tries to clear his throat, hide it but they've been through enough together that she catches him. He forces his eyes to close, doesn't want to see the pain in hers anymore but she's not giving him the chance because not even a second later he feels the warmth of her fingers, just two of them, pressing against his leg.

She's hesitant, afraid, he sees it the moment he opens his eyes again and it's enough to tear the last shred of his control. He reaches for her, wrapping his arms around her and tugging her until she's almost in his lap, her body against his, hair tickling his nose as he presses her head against his neck. He breaks, rips apart. He clutches her, breathes her in. It feels like he hasn't held her in so long.

He knows he's holding too tight, knows his hands are unforgiving, a bit angry but he just needs a moment. She doesn't say anything and that makes him even angrier, makes him whisper into her ear, demanding things he's not sure she can give.

"What the hell were you thinking, Kate?" She chokes, her shoulders shake, and he feel the tears against his skin.

"I'm sorry." He doesn't want it. Doesn't want her sob of an apology. He wants a reason. A damn good one.

* * *

She's crying. Sobbing into him and she can't stop. It's been torture and she needs this. Needs his arms around her. She doesn't care that he's pressing too tight or that she's sure she'll have bruises on her back from the way his fingers are digging into her. She's fine with it. Deserves it. She deserves his harsh words whispered against her. The heat of his breath leaving goosebumps on her skin, tickling at her ear.

And maybe she's holding him too tight as well, maybe her hands are anchored into his shoulder blades with no intentions of moving for awhile. She just - he was touching her stomach when she was sleeping and he was so gentle but this isn't. It's desperate, clingy.

"Why would you do this to us?" She wishes he wouldn't ask like this but he has every right to. The least she can do is try to pull herself together, try to answer him. "I would've supported you but you lied. Why did you lie to me?"

She stays where she's at, doesn't move her head from his neck, he's holding her there, his fingers tangled in her hair. She couldn't move if she wanted to.

"I don't know. I don't know." She takes a few deep breaths, tries to calm herself down. She hiccups, an ugly unattractive sound in the back of her throat that seems to make his hold loosen. No. She doesn't want it to. She wants him to hold tight.

"I asked what Stack wanted to talk to you about and you just...I -"

"I wanted to think first." She swallows, takes another deep breath but her words are still cracked, wavering on the edge of a breakdown. "And then when you found out, you were just angry and I - I got mad too."

"So you left?" It sounds stupid now. It _is_ stupid. All of it. She whimpers when he grips her hair, tugs her back so he can look her in the eye. It's gentle, it doesn't hurt but the fact that he's putting space between them again does. "You ran."

It's the shade of blue his eyes are when he's upset, on the verge of crying. No he _is _crying and she did that to him. She broke him. Now she wants to be the one to put him back together. She needs to be. It's never been about her. She thought it was, thought she was making the right choices for her life but she's an idiot. It's not _her _life anymore. It's theirs and that's what scares her.

"Castle, I asked you where we were going and you brushed it off. Intentional or not, I don't know but I wanted to have that talk and we never did." The tension in his back eases, she can feel the knots under her hands give way. "So when Stack mentioned the job I didn't want to tell you, I wanted to figure out if I even wanted it first and what it would mean for us."

"Because you knew it would tear us apart and that was okay?"

"No!" Her fingers dig into him, claw at his shoulder blades, trying to make him see. She's just as upset. Just as hurt. Just as angry. "Because I didn't know where we stood."

"I love you," Her chest swells. Love. Not _loved_. "And you said you love me, I'm sorry but I'm pretty sure that's where we stood."

"But is that enough? Just loving one another and being in this relationship is great, it is, but what if I wanted more? I wanted a commitment, verbal proof that we're serious - just something." She's done hiding, done beating around the bush. This is what's been in her head for awhile and he deserves to hear it. "I don't want to fight and you don't have to forgive me but I made a mistake, a huge one, and I'm owning up to that."

"Taking the job wasn't the mistake, Kate."

"I know. Assuming it was my life and my decision was. I mean, it is my decision but I should have included you because you're part of my life, a giant part of it. A part that I don't want to lose." The storm clouds in his eyes drift away, leaving an exhausted dull blue behind. She pushes up on her knees to get closer, almost straddles him but she doesn't think that's the right move. "So what do we do?"

She's terrified to hear the answer but she needs it. She wants it. It's been a month of basically no communication and she's suddenly here and he's still holding her, still letting her hang on to him like he's her only lifeline right now.

"We work it out. Because this _is_ serious, this_ is_ committed." She wants to say something but now her words are failing her so she gives him a small smile, something warm. He sighs, lets his arm drop from around her and she almost lets her disappointment show, almost but she hides it by letting herself flop back on the mattress to stare up at the ceiling.

She doesn't even realize that her hand is resting on her abdomen until he eases down next to her, places his over it. At first, she looks down at their hands then over at him. He's lying there, two inches away on his side and he's still touching her. It's better than where they were just hours ago. He lowers their hands, slides them both down until her pinky is dipping under her waistband.

Kate has no idea what she's been expecting but this isn't it.

"I'll have to go back to pack, call a moving company." It's her attempt at conversation and it's true. Lame but true.

"Are you happy about the baby?" The air rushes out of her lungs because that's certainly not something she's been expecting. She looks down at their hands, strokes her thumb over his.

"Certainly not the circumstances but I," She pauses to think it over, decide if she wants to spill her secrets. She flushes, knows he's watching her intently but when her gaze returns to his, she feels no shame. "I've thought about it before - us having a kid."

Not so soon and definitely not with the way things currently are but she gets a fluttering sensation in her entire body when she reminds herself that there's a tiny person growing inside of her. She's pretty confident that's a form of happiness. Astonishment.

**a/n: Next up there's some Alexis.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Mmmm...nope.  
**

**A/N: Holy cracker barrels and cheese sticks Batman! How did this get over 100 reviews in just 3 chapters?! Also I have the flu and feel like I've been hit by a truck so if this seems rambly (it's a word) or awkward, I blame illness. This whole story idea came from a song (even though it's the wrong month in the song but still). **

**If you want to check it out it's Our July In the Rain (Stripped) by He is We.  
**

Two days ago, she made the best decision. An important one and she doesn't regret it. Not even a little bit. It's good to be home. To be back in a city she loves, the one she grew up in. The one that holds her family. It's good to be back in the loft. To walk around barefoot and in pajamas like she'd never left in the first place. But she had left. That still lingers. Two days of being here, of doing this with him. Talking and working through some tough subjects. They push each other out of comfort zones, make the other cry, don't let them run. She's never felt more emotionally and physically drained - at least not in several years.

That's what they've been doing. Just talking. And holding hands. She's the one who reached first but he hadn't pushed her away and now they're watching a movie and he's the one who shifts closer, takes her fingers hostage with his own. Because they're doing this. They're still here, still together. It doesn't seem real that she's here, that things are so distant between them. It's getting better - a lot better but she has to go back to DC. She leaves in the morning. She'll be gone for a week - another seven days but this time it won't be so bad. She tells herself that it's different this time. She has to do this. She has to go, she won't leave the job on bad terms, she'll turn in her resignation, talk to her landlord about backing out of her lease and then she'll pack up all of her things.

A week - maybe less - and she'll be home for good. She doesn't actually have a home though. Maybe her apartment is still open? It's a long shot but she really did love that apartment and she'll need to find something. Soon.

"I can go with you." He knows. Of course he knows what's on her mind - what's making it impossible to focus on the television screen. It's a sweet offer, one she wants to jump on but she shakes her head slowly. She can't.

"No, Castle, you don't have to do that."

"I want to." His voice is soft but strong. She knows what he's hiding though, everything he isn't saying. It's in his eyes, the tension of his shoulders, the way the vein in his neck throbs as he swallows. She has to do this.

"You can't." She sees his protest coming, feels it in the squeeze of his hand - tight and unforgiving. At least he's not letting go. "No, listen. I want you to but the only reason you're offering is because you're afraid. A part of you is scared that I won't come back and you're thinking if you go with me, you'll be able to make sure that I do."

"That's -"

"True and you know it. I'll be back as soon as I get everything taken care of." She follows his eyes when he drops his gaze to their entwined fingers. "But, um, I wouldn't mind you coming up towards the end of the week to help me pack."

It's enough. She lets her lips tilt, warm and sure as her thumb sweeps over his and it's enough to bring his pretty blues back up to lock with her uncertain eyes. His adams apple bobs, he tugs on her hand, and she feels a fire light in her blood. She knows that look. The dark predatory haze, the way he swallows so roughly, the grip of his fingers. She's powerless to resist.

Doesn't try. Doesn't want to. She's missed him so much and now he's leaning in, hesitantly almost as if he's waiting for her to put her hand on his chest and push him back. Why would she? He's crazy if he thinks she doesn't want to pin him to this couch and show him just how much she wants him. He's the man she's in love with. The man she's in a committed relationship with and her body is canting towards him as if she's a moth and he's the flame. It's easy to do this. To bump her nose into his and close the rest of the space between them. To shift into his lap the moment their lips touch.

He's just as warm as always, his lips are still the same soft satiny sensation and then his hands are on her hips, hoisting her up until she's sitting on him, wrapping her legs around his waist and cupping his face in her palms. He needs to shave. Kate feels the very moment his shred of control snaps. He bites her bottom lip roughly, almost hard enough to make her cry out but it feels too good. _He_ feels too good.

He's angry and unforgiving but soft and loving all rolled into one. She can feel his pain, his suffering and she's sure he's enduring the same from her as she drags her teeth across his jaw. She _wants_ him. More than just a burning desire - it's a need rooted so deeply inside of her that she's afraid she'll explode. Burst into a million pieces right here in his arms.

"Kate," It's a rough growl against her ear - the heat of his breath and the press of his lips sending shivers down her spine. She's not even sure if he's actually saying her name but it definitely sounds like it. His hands are slipping up her sides, bunching her shirt as they travel over her ribs and she's not sure of anything. She's missed his touch. "Stop, Kate."

She doesn't comprehend what he's saying, doesn't understand the request but then one of his hands is sliding around to her back, a palm pressing hard into the curve of her spine and she knows. Her skin is already pink, a rosy flush from the amount of arousal she's feeling and she's never one to feel embarrassed when it comes to this but she does now. He's asking her to stop and she doesn't get it until he's physically holding her in place and she can no longer rock her hips into his.

She doesn't jerk back, doesn't put any space between them. She's done with space. She hates it and she just needs to be close. She needs to_ know_. She needs this. She wants the hot angry make-up sex. What if he doesn't? What are his needs? She's never been cautious - not since before they got together. But this is the time for it. She controls herself and rests her hands on his shoulders, her forehead against his as the words start tumbling.

"Sorry...I just -"

"No - not _stop _as in...I'm saying this completely wrong. We're bad at this." She chuckles against him, rubbing her nose over his. He's right. They suck at communication but it's somehow funny. At least it is right now. When they've been talking through things so well the last few days.

"I don't know Castle, I've always thought we were really good at _this_."

"Hm, we did make a baby." She did it. She changed the subject and he's even bantering, his lips tilting upwards. The air leaves her lungs, sucked out forcefully by the sweet nonchalance in his tone. He's okay with it. Seems to be handling it just a little better than she is because she keeps forgetting. It slips her mind and then he'll say something and it hits her in the chest like a bag of bricks. It isn't a bad feeling, it's just quick to stun. A bit of a shock each time he brings it up.

"I don't think you necessarily have to be good at sex to make a baby, Castle."

"Solid point." And it isn't funny - not really but it's been too long since they've done this back and forth and before she can even try to stifle it down she's shaking with laughter. Full and vibrant, mouth open and tears pricking her eyes. Completely inappropriate and he's holding her in place with heavy hands, not letting her move.

She buries her face in his shoulder, body still shaking with choked out full belly chuckles and she's not even sure what it is that's so funny. She hasn't laughed...in awhile. Not like this. Not since they were lazing around the loft on a Sunday with laser gear and nowhere to be.

Maybe it's the fact that she actually thought she could do this - be this person - without him when he's the only reason she let the walls crumble. He's the only reason she wanted them gone, if she's being completely honest with herself. Maybe it's the fact that she's actually carrying his child and she's terrified. Perhaps it's just the thought of them making out on the couch after not even touching for a month. Maybe it's all of it. She doesn't know but it isn't long before his hand is tangling in her messy waves and she feels him joining in. He must understand.

He holds her in place as they ease into soft bursts of chuckling, she feels good here. Better than good. Right. She feels right. She feels at home. With her smile pressing into his shirt, the cotton sticking against her teeth, she lets herself enjoy the moment.

"Rick," It's a mimic of the first time but she's serious and she wants to say it. "I do love you."

* * *

It's a burst in his chest, a full fledged explosion. He knows. He does - even if he's been having doubts for the last month - but it still shakes him to the core to hear it whispered into his shoulder. This is never how he imagined things. Then again, when has their relationship ever gone the way he imagined? Maybe it's a sign that he needs to abandon the 'plan' he has and create something new. Something tailor made for them. They need to let go of their reservations and just dive in. That's what he needs. That what they both need.

His fingers tighten, pressing into her back and scalp. She smells like soap, still a mix of cherries and something distinctly Kate. The bottle she kept in his bathroom is still there and he smiles a little at the way she'd been a bit surprised to see it sitting right next to his. All of her little things are still here, he never tossed them out. There's a box of tampons beneath his sink and it's rather obvious they're of no use to him but he couldn't bring himself to eradicate anything she'd brought to his home - not even that awful mouthwash that makes his eyes water.

She pushes against his hold, her head pressing back into his hand and forcing him to ease his hold, let her pull back. She's still smiling a little, not as brightly as when the laugh attack started but she's still got that quirk at the corners of her mouth, her teeth showing as she bites her bottom lip but her eyes always give her away. She's worrying. Always worrying.

Expressive pools of hazel glory, sometimes a dark shade, with specks of gold - like right now. When she's exhausted and just needs a sense of normalcy. He can give her that. He can lean in and gently pry her battered lip away from the abuse she's putting it through with a single touch of his mouth to hers.

"Love isn't a switch you can just turn off." He mumbles the words into her and she swallows every one of them on a shaky inhale.

"No, it isn't."

"We should talk about the ba-" The click of the door interrupts, has the woman in his lap tensing. As soon as the voice rings out, she's scrambling, sliding down on the cushion next to him and he's still not sure what's going on.

"Hey Dad, we - oh! Kate?"

"Hi, Alexis." The women officially gain his full attention. His daughter has caught them in similar positions before and unless articles of clothing were missing, Kate had never actually jerked away from him so fast. Oh. But he hasn't even thought of how his daughter would react to this in the last couple of days.

He hasn't thought of anything really. Just their relationship, her moving back, and the baby. Oh god. He needs to tell Alexis. There's a baby. Kate's pregnant. There's a tiny human being depending on her - on both of them but mostly her for the next several months. His daughter should know that.

Alexis looks at him and he catches the expressions filtering across her face. Knows for sure that confusion and hurt are amongst them in the furrowing of her brow. He should have told her. He's been too caught up and there's no excuse really. She's his daughter and she deserves to know these things. He opens his mouth, ready to blurt out something, anything to make this tense round of staring at one another end but she beats him as soon her gaze meets with the woman next to him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were back?" She's definitely hurt. He knows that tone. It's the same one she had when she was three and asking where her mom was. Those blue eyes watery. That doesn't stun him, it's the question itself that does.

"I've been working things out with your father. I didn't want to just waltz back in like nothing happened." His head is starting to spin just a little because he has no idea why his little girl is frowning like that or why Kate is just calmly reaching for his hand. "I would've told you the other day but -"

"You sounded really busy."

"I was but I'm sorry for cutting it short."

"What's going on?" He glances from woman to woman, mouth open and wanting answers. Alexis walks over to them, slowly joins their little two person party on the couch but she doesn't take her eyes off of his girlfriend. He thinks the label still fits. "Alexis?"

"I called her, Castle. I wanted to know if you were okay and you wouldn't ever answer so I called her...and Martha. A few times, actually." Her voice is soft, her thumb is rubbing over his knuckles and he's not sure how he feels. It's not anger that builds in him, something a little more complex than that. Something wrapped in confusion and snuggled against pride.

He's almost proud and_ that_ doesn't make any sense to him.

**a/n: Next is the continuation of this chapter. I know Alexis is supposed to be in Costa Rica but I didn't know that when I started this so let's just ignore that fact, shall we?  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Oh how I wish I did today, because the money would be used to help rebuild.  
**

**A/N: I live in Oklahoma, today we're getting slammed with tornadoes and I just keep hoping that they don't hit my home. I feel awful for everyone who has lost houses, lives of loved ones, and beloved pets. My heart is crushed hearing about the schools - Plaza Towers. I've lived here my entire life but when I was kid, I never understood what it really meant when mother nature's destructive side came out. And then when I was 14, we lost our house to a fire right before Christmas. Now that I understand first hand, I just can't believe how strong we are as human beings. To move on, rebuild, make something when everything we love gets ripped away. So enjoy this chapter but also take the time to think of these families, I'm dedicating it to everyone who is suffering right now - not just from the weather in Oklahoma. I mean absolutely everyone all over the globe. And for today, I ask that you keep Oklahoma in your thoughts because we could use some love. First Texas, now Oklahoma.  
**

She's not calm. She's anything but. There's nothing easy about this. About seeing Alexis sitting cautiously on the edge of the couch as if she's not entirely sure of herself. And Kate hates that. She wants this to be different. To be easier because she's already internally freaking out and there's no way she can keep hiding it when both Castle's are staring at her, wanting some answers. Not even three minutes ago, she was in his lap with their mouths melding, mending, healing.

She loves Alexis - she does - but she really wishes she could have waited a little longer before coming over. Maybe a couple of hours. Just to give them time to evaluate their steps in the right direction. And now she's here and Kate knows there are things that need to be said. Things. It's not a thing, it's a baby. There's another helpless person being brought into this and she isn't about to keep that from Alexis.

But she doesn't know how to start this conversation. It's even worse that she suspected and didn't tell anyone. She'd called Alexis too but the words didn't come and she didn't want to tell anyone until Castle knew. He deserved to know first. But _this _isn't what she's been picturing. Surprisingly Martha thinks she made the right decision - furthering her career but she now knows that isn't true. This is the right decision. Being here with her family. There's nothing above this.

Alexis doesn't hold it against her - not much. She knows the tone the girl uses barely masks a hint of disdain but it isn't directed at her. More the situation they've put themselves in. She's still worrying. As soon as she breaks the news, there could be a reaction of catastrophic proportions. She still doesn't even know how Castle really feels about it. He's asked her if she's happy and she sort of answered. He's right. They do need to talk about it. No. Not an it. A baby. They need to talk about the baby.

After spending the last few days hashing through their mistakes, they need to really buckle down. Talk baby. It still makes her stomach twist, makes her clench his hand like it's a lifeline. They can do this. She knows they can do this because they're still here. After everything that's been thrown in their faces, the truths they've been forced to swallow, they are still standing. That says more than words ever could.

She doesn't realize she's zoned out, doesn't notice her chest rising and falling with deep quick breaths until Alexis frowns at her, tilts her head to the side and breaks through the awkward silence they've settled into.

"Are you okay?" She's not. She's starting to panic a little. How is she supposed to do this? How is she supposed to tell Castle's daughter - his grown daughter - that she's getting a half sibling?

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"You don't look so good." She doesn't feel so good either but she swallows it down, forces herself to smile and shake off the concern Alexis is showing. It's sweet but as soon as she opens her mouth, lets out her secret, things will change. She braces herself, lets her eyes meet with those of her writer.

"Castle, we need to tell her."

"Tell me what?"

"Do you want to...or should -"

"What's going on guys?" It breaks out, flies free on the words of 'I'm pregnant' mixing with a harmony of 'Kate's pregnant' in an equally rushed sentence. Both trying to ease the girl's mind at the same moment. The words tangle and it seems almost symbolic. It draws a huff - almost a laugh - from her lungs. She doesn't know how it's even remotely amusing.

Castle's thumb strokes across her fingers before he pulls his hand away. He wraps the arm around her shoulders, tugging her closer as if he's supporting her. Preparing for a storm. Bracing for it. That doesn't make her feel any better. Her stomach is twisting, churning harder than it was moments ago and she's a little afraid that she'll be sick.

"What?" It's soft, a quiet echo but it's as loud as a canon to Kate. A shock wave of sound that has a shiver darting down her spine.

"I - uh, I'm pregnant." It's the second time she's said it. Actually put it into words and it sends waves through her middle. It's like a hurricane rocking her insides and it worsens when she catches the drop in Alexis' face. The way her brows furrow, the way her mouth drops open and her eyes cloud with something that Kate knows all too well.

"That's why you came back? Because you're pregnant - not because you love him but because he's the father and you felt inclined to let him know?" She drops her head, bites her lip as Castle squeezes her tighter, tries to defend.

"Alexis,"

"I thought you loved him, I thought that was why you called me, because you -"

"I do. I do love him and I came back because of _him. _And you and Martha. The boys at the precinct, my dad. I came back because this is my family, Alexis. I didn't even know about the...the baby when I bought the ticket." She doesn't mean to so sound harsh but she does. She's almost demanding. Demanding his daughter to understand and it brings a silence settling between them again.

It's not really awkward until she catches little Castle's eyes dragging their way down to her stomach and it reaches a whole new level of uncomfortable. She hasn't thought about this part. The after. How it feels when someone who isn't intimately connected to her knows about the life they've created. It's strange, makes it seem even more real.

"Are you happy?" It's not a question she's expecting. And certainly not from Alexis in a voice that's barely more than a whisper. It catches her off guard, sends her spiraling and oh, yeah, she's definitely going to be sick.

"I...yeah, yes. I'm happy." A hand flexes against her shoulder, drifts down her back until it's wrapped around her ribs, stroking up and down. It calms her, eases the raging in her stomach. His fingers dancing over the scar - she wonders if he's even aware of it. Or if he's just surprised by her words. She is.

She wants so badly to see his face right now but she's still watching his daughter, wanting some sort of acceptance. When their eyes meet, she gets it. There's no hatred - just a sharp look that Kate knows is a coping mechanism. She's a good kid - she doesn't want to see her father hurt and that's admirable.

"I'm not here because of this, Alexis but I'm happy. Shocked but happy." And that's enough. It's enough for her and she hopes that it's enough for the man she's leaning against. And for his firstborn.

"Okay."

"Great! Now how about some ice cream to celebrate?" Ice cream doesn't sound like a good idea but Castle is already halfway off the couch, and there's a hint of a smile pulling a the corners of his mouth. She'll deal with the roll of nausea if it means being part of this. The movie playing in the background was forgotten long ago but it's noise. A welcome distraction as father and daughter head to the kitchen.

She really made a mess - no, _they _made a mess of things. Slowly, they'll right their wrongs and she feels pretty good. She managed to get through this without Alexis hating her and there's no lasting damage - at least she doesn't think there is. Time will tell. That's pretty much how she's living at the moment, just waiting to see how things pan out.

There's nothing set in stone but she's here. That counts for something and he was going to go to DC so that's got to count for something too.

* * *

He hates this. He's always hated this part but he can be here for her. He can hold her hair back, look away out of respect as she heaves. And honestly, he just doesn't need to see what ice cream looks like the second time around. He's a curious man but he isn't that curious. She's groaning, hands shaking and he just wants her to be okay.

He's watching her back, watching as it tenses, arches as her stomach empties itself. There's nothing more he can do but he tries, he leans over her, lets his nose press into her hair for a brief second. She pushes at him with a flailing hand, whimpering something that sounds like 'stop' but he won't. He isn't going to just leave her alone.

She's shaking, her body trembling with each steady breath she pulls into her lungs and he pulls her back into his chest. She offers a weak protest, wiping her hand across her mouth. He reaches up, flushes the toilet as she finally relaxes into him. She's just going to have to deal with it because he's not letting her suffer through any of this by herself.

"Go away." Even as she says - more like croaks - it, she's turning into his chest and he has to fight to keep a smile from taking over. "Embarrassing."

"I stared at your back the whole time, promise." He's rewarded with a laugh and her fingers digging into his shirt. "You okay?"

"M'fine."

"Of course. But you did just lose your dessert." Castle feels her groan before it ever becomes an audible sound. The way it rumbles through her and she drops her hand to hold her stomach.

"Don't talk about food."

"Okay. Can we talk about the fact that you're really pregnant and maybe even the fact that you told my daughter you're happy about it?" That gets her attention. He doesn't want to let her go but she's pulling back, lifting her head from his shoulder and he loosens his hold. They need this. After everything they've been through, they need to do this.

Her eyes are misty and he doesn't know if it's the topic or the strain her body has just been through but it steals his breath, makes his chest constrict. She gives a nod, firm and strong. Always the strong one. He wishes that sometimes she'd let it go but it's not in her nature. She's independent to a fault, a woman with iron in her bones and a strength he can't help but admire.

"I am, Castle. I want this."

"Good." It's expelled on a sigh, a breath of hope. They're doing this and it'll be okay. He feels the smile split across his face, loves that she matches it with one of her own before she buries her face in his shoulder. He knows how she feels right now. The freedom of touch is being reveled in. He's doing his fair share as well. Hands stroking over her back, one wiping at her cheek and over her forehead.

He doesn't care that they're in the middle of the bathroom floor or that his daughter interrupted their more intimate reunion earlier. Things are okay. For the first time in over a month, things are looking up and that's what has his arm squeezing her closer, pulling her tighter and wrapping around her. She mumbles against him, whimpers and then she's pushing hard on his shoulder. It almost hurts, the pressure uncomfortable as she scrambles away, leans back over the toilet just in time.

He scrubs a hand down his face, knows she isn't about to let him anywhere near her for a second time. So he sits, touches her ankle to let her know that he isn't leaving. His thumb brushes over her soft skin, swipes at the silky smooth area that's stretched over bone. The very spot that makes her moan when he kisses it.

When the heaving stops, her stomach probably empty, he stands and extends a hand for her to take. She does. She lets him pull her to her feet and then she's shrugging away. He doesn't take it personally. He knows what she's doing as he watches her lean on the counter, reach for the faucet. She gives him a look in the mirror but he leans against the door frame, not ready to step out. He has more questions.

"Is this the first time you've had morning sickness?"

"Can it really be classified as 'morning' sickness when it's evening?" He's never really watched her before when she's done this. Squirted a dab of toothpaste on the brush, and he finds it grounding. Oh he's tried to distract her before, make her forget that she was getting ready for work but he's never noticed how sure her hands are - even now when there is a slight tremble to them. She's calculated. "On the plane was actually the first time."

"Is that why it hit you - the fact that you're pregnant?"

"No. In fact I think it was me finally realizing how real all of this is that induced the nausea."

"We were careful." He's not doubting her, he knows she took her pill religiously. He's stating a fact because he's still trying to fully grasp that he's going to be a father again. He doesn't care that she's raising an eyebrow with a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. He gives her time to spit and then he's diving back in. "How far along do you think you are?"

"I don't know. Far enough along that it shows up on a test." It's the shoulder shrug that gets him. Lets him know she's already been counting days, figuring it out. She has an idea, he just needs to needle it out of her.

"How late are you?" She's mid scrub of her teeth and her eyebrows both reach for the ceiling. It's a dumb question that he's asking just for her benefit. He already knows. He's been with her for a year, worked with her for five. He knows her womanly things, her cravings when she's in a mood and cramping. He knows it all.

"About three weeks." It's mumbled around a mouthful of toothpaste but he hears it just fine and again, he already knows. It's still a little shocking to hear because that's a lot. Three weeks is a lot of days.

"Why...how -" She spits, rinses, and then turns to face him. He's never been as struck as he is right now. He's never been this pinned by the gaze in her eyes.

"I thought it was stress, it didn't even cross my mind that it could be anything else until just a few days ago. I mean, with our relationship on shaky ground and the move plus the job, I never even thought about it."

"That's...that would put you at almost eight weeks. Wouldn't it?"

"Give or take." It's heavy in chest. A knot that forms in his throat. But she's abandoning her toothbrush, stepping into his space and he reaches without thought. It seems foreign that just days ago, he wasn't even touching her, she wasn't here. Oh god. She was pregnant - weeks pregnant - before she ever left. "I know what you're thinking, Castle, stop it."

"You were almost a month pregnant before you left."

"Stop. It doesn't matter." But it does. It matters to him and he can see that despite her words, it matters to her too. "Besides, we don't know anything for sure until I set up a doctor's appointment."

"We need to do that. We need to start getting ready - I don't have anything for a baby anymore. I think I have some of Alexis' old blankets but they're pink and we might have a boy." He's rambling, he knows it but it's hitting him just how unprepared they are. "Do you want to know the sex or are you one of those -"

"Castle, stop. Don't freak out on me, you've done this before. I haven't, so I need you to be the calm one." He swallows when her hands wrap around his elbows. Warm fingers pressing into the skin and he lets her words drift over him, sink in. She's right. He's been through this. He knows they have time to get things sorted but she's never had a baby, she's never been pregnant and right now her eyes are open windows, showing him the panic she feels.

"You're scared."

"Terrified."

"That's normal." She gives a small smile and he offers one in return. "I feel it too."

"It's not just that, it's not only this intense fear that there's a baby relying on me and I might mess it up. It's everything. I'm afraid of all of this." He knows what's coming but it still pushes at his heart, tugs it apart as she steps into him and bumps her knees against his legs. "I always do something to end relationships around a year, I never stay when things get serious but this is different - I want serious, I want to stay and that's terrifying for me."

"And now on top of your relationship fears we're having a baby."

"Pretty sure I just said that. I don't know the first thing about being a mom."

"You know all there is to know, Kate. Just love them." He wants to drag her into him, crush her against his chest but he's a little worried that it'll upset her stomach again so he holds back. "I've seen you with children, trust me when I say that you have nothing to worry about."

"Look at us," He watches her chin raise, the snap of her jaw as she speaks in an almost teasing tone. "talking things out."

He closes the distance, caresses her lips with a soft kiss. Because he can. Because it's been too long since he's had this freedom and he's taking advantage. Because it's part of the healing process and maybe just maybe, it's the tantalizing mint of the toothpaste that makes him brush his mouth against hers three more times. Or maybe it's just her. The fact that she's here and she's working things out with him - teasing at all the right moments. All of these are really good possibilities.

But something tells him the real reason is nestled safely in her womb.

**a/n: If you'd like to contribute text REDCROSS to 90999 to donate $10. If you can - I say this because I understand when someone is either too young or doesn't have the funding.**

**These are people's homes, their lives, everything they know and it's all gone. Children lost their lives today and if we can give anything at all to help rebuild, to help heal, then I say we do it. Not just because I live here but because things like this happen all over and as human beings, it's our job to have a heart and to help others. So please, if you have the time and if you have an extra $10, please help us.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Still a no.  
**

**A/N: I want to thank EVERYONE who donated last chapter and everyone who kept Oklahoma in their thoughts. :) Every little bit helps.  
**

**Also, this is a SHORT FILLER chapter because I haven't had a whole lot of time to write with tornadoes hitting left and right. **

It's different now - being back in this apartment. Knowing that she's here to pack up her things and go _home_. It won't take too long, considering some of her boxes she never bothered _un_packing. Books, movies, little odds and ends. Things like that - they're still packed away, making this easier. Only a few decorations made it out and onto the walls and shelves. She spent most of yesterday dealing with her job, arguing with her landlord, being emotionally drained.

It's a different day. A better day and she's still lying in bed, in her pajamas because of the tidal waves wreaking havoc in her middle. The rocking motion of the nausea Alone and snuggling into a blanket that doesn't smell like Castle. Everything seems real. It's all taking over. A tsunami of fear crashing over her and she has to remind herself that none of it was a dream. She went home, she's pregnant. They're okay, they're working out their issues. Wasn't a dream.

But they've done so well glossing over things in the past and even though they are talking, they still skirt around the big things. Like this baby. He's not upset about it...neither is she but what are they going to do? Does she want to move in with him or just start all over, go slow and work their way back onto solid ground? She doesn't know. She just wants everything back to the way it was.

Her hand slips down to rest on her abdomen, along the waistband of her shorts and she gives out a sigh. Maybe not everything. Because honestly, she isn't getting any younger - neither is he and she does want this. She wants a family. A son or a daughter. She's never realized just how much she really wants it until now.

She groans, buries her face in the pillow on a harsh churn of her stomach. She's never handled sickness very well. She can deal with injuries, she can deal with a cold but nausea? No. She doesn't even want to breathe in fear that it'll induce vomiting but she sucks in a deep gulp of air anyway, hoping that it'll calm her torturous insides. She's hoping. Wishing. Nothing calms her mind so she's throwing all her effort into stopping the abhorrence in her belly.

It does help. It settles it enough that she can roll onto her back, stare down at the flat plane of her stomach. She really can't wait for her appointment, she just wants to know how far along she is and if the fact that she continued taking her birth control is going to have any ill effect on her baby. Part of her thinks it would just be something else she's screwed up. She's done that a lot lately. And then she's silently berating herself for even thinking like that.

"Hey kid," Her voice is soft, shaky. "I know you can't hear or anything but uh, just...be okay."

It shouldn't make her feel better but it does. Talking to her unborn child somehow shushes the racing in her brain and before she even realizes what she's doing and that she probably looks like a loon, she's propping herself up on the pillows and raising her shirt.

"And, be patient. I haven't ever done this before and I'll probably mess up, make a lot of mistakes. Just ask your father, he knows exactly what I -" Her phone buzzes on the nightstand, interrupting her monologue and she knows who it is before she ever touches it. There's only one person who would be texting her right now. "Speak of the devil..."

She knows he means well but this is bordering on stalking. He's text so much and maybe he's just making up for the time he spent ignoring her but she's still feeling a little smothered. When she looks at the screen, it's just one word. One tiny three letter word but it holds so much. A longing, a fear, a need. Just 'hey' but to her, it's bigger. It's complicated and messy.

She isn't answering him - not like this. So she presses call and lifts the phone to her ear. He answers before it even rings twice. She's done this, she's made this into what it is and she wants it to stop.

_"Hey," _

"Castle, I know you're just checking in and I know that you feel like you need to but please...don't." It comes out a bit more harsh than she's intended but he's called twice today. Twice. The words have more zing to them than she wants. It sends the wrong message and she knows it before she ever hears him sigh through the phone. "I won't be gone forever -"

Bad choice of words.

_"Better not be."  
_

"I won't - I need to come home, find an apartment, see about my job at the twelfth." She could turn this into an argument easily but she doesn't want to. She isn't looking for a fight. She's just done fighting and she understands that he feels the need to check on her now. She's carrying his child and that's a bit nerve wracking for the both of them.

_"You don't have to find an apartment, you know that."_

"I can't just move in with you."

_"What's stopping you?" _Everything is but she doesn't say it. _"I know we're figuring things out but all I'm saying is that you can stay here and then if you still want to move, you can."_

"I just...I don't see how you're not still mad at me. You're offering me your home and -"

_"Oh, I'm still mad but you're pregnant, you came back, and unless you want to stay with Lanie or your dad..."_

"I'll stay with you." She will. Because she knows they'll get passed this. "I'm not trying to start a fight - well actually I guess I am - but I just feel like we're teetering on the edge here. Just tiptoeing around and maybe...maybe we need to yell it out."

She doesn't want to. She's done with fighting but she's also tired of feeling like they're in a bubble - like everything is okay when it clearly isn't. So much has happened, and just because she's pregnant and they're both happy about it doesn't make any of it go away. She loves him too much. She does and it aches. It spins in her chest, weaving a web around her heart that tightens every time she catches him staring at her stomach or when he presses his fingers into it late at night.

He's being too quiet now. She can hear him breathing but he's not saying anything and she wonders if maybe she's said too much. Let her thoughts get ahead of her. But this is how she feels. She feels like this has been a little too easy. They've talked about things, hard things that left them both raw and weeping but it doesn't _feel _like it's been enough. Maybe it's just that she's so many miles away and she's worried they'll back track or maybe she's actually _trying_ to back track. Either way, something needs to be done about it. And he's being way too silent.

"Castle?"

_"I'm done fighting. I don't want to yell at you and I don't think that would help anything at this point. We're doing_ _okay." _She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighs and just lets it go for now.

"Okay."

_"Do you still want me to come up tomorrow?"_

"Yeah but uh - I need to go, I should really be packing." She isn't going to. She's going to sit here on the bed and just stare down at her abdomen, daydream about what it'll look like when she gets a baby bump. What Castle's reaction will be to it. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She hears his soft 'until then' just as she hangs up. Maybe the tension will dissipate over night. Maybe it's only lingering because she's not in New York and everything is still so bruised. When he gets here, it might go away. She can only hope so.

* * *

He stares at the phone in his hand for at least thirty minutes after the call has ended. He knows she's right. She's okay and she's coming back but that's not why he keeps checking in. He's afraid, yes. Terrified but not of her. Of the baby. He's a wreck because of the baby. He's texting and calling because he's pretty sure she was almost a month pregnant before she ever left and he didn't even know.

He's missed out and he needs to prove that he's going to be here for this. He needs to. Just to give himself some peace of mind. But he understands that maybe it's a bit too much right now. And she's right. Everything needs to settle down. They need to get back to 'them' and just work from there. He wants to be able to touch her, kiss her.

He has. He did. Before she left but it isn't the same. Something is still lingering and maybe they do need to yell it out, something. Because he needs it gone. He wants to have his girlfriend back. He wants the playful, sassy woman that hogs the blankets and steals his toast in the mornings. Not the cautious one he's shared the loft with for a few days.

And yes, he's angry and his emotions are tied up in knots. Everything is tangled and messy but he's not giving this up. He won't. They need each other. After so many years and the pushing, the pulling away, the almost giving up, it's kind of obvious that they'll always find their way back. That's what he's counting on.

But the fact that she wants to fight about it? That doesn't really make sense to him. He wants to avoid fighting. He wants to just be with her even when he really wants to shake her sometimes. When she's being like this. When she's back pedaling and being stubborn. When she's trying to take the easy way out, he just wants to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her but it doesn't work like that.

He'll show up tomorrow, he'll confront her - see what the real issue is now. They need to talk about some bigger things. About the baby they've created. And if she doesn't even mention the tension that's bubbled in the days she's been away then he's going to explode and she might just be right about yelling it out. Because he's really close to being too damn tired of all of this.

**a/n: Next chapter Castle joins her and things ESCALATE.  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I play with other people's fictional characters when my own frustrate me. Just borrowing.  
**

**A/N: Getting things done this weekend. Which basically just means I'm updating everything.  
**

He's not sure what he actually expected but this isn't it. Sitting in her living room - no, it isn't hers, she doesn't belong here - and taping a box that's full of toiletries. Not what he thought would happen when he stepped off the plane. None of this is what he'd seen in his head. Maybe he's asking too much...no, no he isn't. Because it's definitely not asking too much when all he wanted was a hug, a kiss, something other than a timid smile when she picked him up. Like she's afraid to do anything.

She is. He feels it in the way she brushes against him, locks eyes and lets them linger. She's holding herself back and he knows why. Their phone conversation still plays on a loop in his brain and he's wondering if that's what she's thinking about too. If that's why her eyes dart up to his when their fingers touch as he passes her the tape.

They've barely done more than make small talk and he's frustrated. He wants this gone. The tension. It's been building instead of receding and maybe that's because it just hadn't fully hit him that she's coming back, that she's forcing her way back into his life - not that he minds. They need to get it out. All of it. Clear the air. He thought they had. He thought that's what the two days in his loft had been for but now he sees what a mistake they made - thinking it could blow over in _just _a couple of days after not talking for a month.

And now, sitting here with her, touching her things, packing them into boxes just brings it all back. The ache in his chest the night before she left. The way he'd still pinned her to her door, showed her how hurt he was with his hands and mouth. Surrounded by boxes. Just like they were now and the second she swallows and drops her head, he feels his last nerve fizzle out. His control finally snapping.

It starts with the pulse of a vein in his neck, he can feel it. A clench of his hand around her wrist. Not too hard, just enough pressure to get her attention, to make her notice that they're done packing for awhile. They've done so well with talking and he isn't about to let the walls go up between them now. Not after everything they've been through together. The tough times they'd weathered and came out on top. This will be another one of those times, he'll make sure of it. Because despite how many times it's felt as though she's crushed his heart, he loves her. And he knows that he's hurt her just as many times.

"Stop. Just stop." She has the nerve to furrow her brow, purse her lips in an adorable manner as if she doesn't know what he's talking about.

"What?" And he's done.

"Don't act like you don't know, Kate." She drops her head, avoids his eyes and he lets her for a moment. Just a brief moment and then he's reaching out, lifting her chin with a gentle touch. "Why does it feel like we're taking a giant leap backwards?"

"I - I don't know." And even though he can honesty in her gaze, the words still fuel the fire building in his chest. "Castle, I -"

"I thought we were doing pretty well, excited about the baby, and communicating. Actually talking things through and now you're back pedaling?" It's not all on her but he's tired of this when everything was fine before she got on that plane. "Why?"

He doesn't know if he wants to get into this because she's already squaring her shoulders, preparing for a battle and he's not ready for a fight but he can't stop. Won't stop. Her eyes go from a terrified watery mess to passionate, slightly cold pools that he's sure will drown him. She's better at this than he is, steeling off her emotions for a fight.

At least, that's what he's forced himself to believe until she opens her mouth and he can _hear_ the tears she's fighting against.

"I'm not."

"You are."

"We - we are." And she's right. And it hurts. It stings in his chest, a raw wound that's been reopened and just had salt poured into it. "We're just floating. We're not -"

"And whose fault is that, Kate?" It's out before he thinks. A sharp bite to her name, blame lacing the 'K' and making a snap at the 't'. She freezes for a brief second, body going still and eyes burning into his and then she's all motion. Jerking her wrist away from his fingers, standing to put some distance between them. He follows. Done with distance. He hates it. It makes him sick.

"I said...I said I was_ sorry_, I apologized and there's nothing I can do to take it back." And then she's turning, facing him, hair swinging around her shoulders and she looks so damn devastatingly beautiful that it chokes him. Leaves him angry. "You could have -"

"Could have what, Kate? Answered the phone when you called - why, so I could hear your voice and just be a little more miserable?" He shouldn't be stepping closer, he shouldn't be on the verge of grabbing her shoulders, forcing her to see that he's still here. That he still wants her.

Oh. Maybe that's it...he just _wants _her right now. Right here. Anger, guilt, red puffy eyes and all.

"I know I messed up! Okay - I know so you don't have to do this."

"You wanted to yell it out..." But she doesn't anymore. It's in the stiffening of her spine when he steps into her personal space, just a few inches away from touching. He wants to touch. He wants to make her see.

"Really, Castle? While packing to move me back home?" Home. He gets stuck on it, ignoring the angry way she spits out the words. Home. Home. It's a mantra in his head, propelling him forward, pushing his mouth into hers - stealing her gasp with his tongue. Touch. He just needs to touch.

So he does, his hands on her hips - fingers digging in sharply, making her stumble back a few steps before she regains her balance. He feels the moment she gives in, the way her hands grip at his shirt, clinging and tugging him closer, mouth opening against his. She growls into him and he answers it with a groan and presses his hips into hers.

It's the rough jerk she gives - her whole body moving against him - that has him breathing the words over her lips, anger still present in each one.

"Why do you have to be so difficult?" But she's worth it. She's worth all of it and he doesn't wait for her reply - doesn't even give her a chance before he's dragging her down with him in an awkward tangle of limbs, a bump of knees and elbows hitting uncomfortable soft spots of flesh.

She comes willingly, fighting only against the layers of clothes between them and he lets her. Lets her take her anger out on him because he's about to do the same. He's about to strip her down, leave her bare - emotionally, physically. He does. He tears at the layers, but finally gives up on the shirt, just pushes it out of the way as he lays her out on the floor.

* * *

She's not entirely sure how they've ended up here - on the floor with her shirt being the only thing left between them - or if she's upset by it or stupidly ecstatic. Maybe it's a bit of both. He's still above her, still in charge even as his forehead presses into her neck, nose pushing into her skin as she strokes one hand through his hair, and chews on the thumbnail of the other.

This isn't exactly how she pictured this. Something angry and bruising against a hardwood floor that doesn't even belong to her anymore. Never really did. That's not how she wanted this to happen. But maybe it's for the best. He's easing up on her, body no longer heavy against her own as he pushes up on his hands. She tries for a bit of a smile, something to show him that she's no mad at him. That maybe she was wrong and they didn't need to yell it out. Maybe _this_ is what they were needing.

But he glances down at her chest and she lets her eyes follow, snorts out a laugh when she sees her shirt twisted and bunched only covering one of her breasts. He's smiling too. She sees it, lets it wrap around her heart, warm and content.

"You okay?" She almost doesn't understand why he's asking but then his thumb brushes over a patch of skin along the back of her shoulder and she feels exactly why he's curious. It stings a little and she pushes back against his hand, smashing it between her body and the floor. Maybe angry floor sex isn't a good idea without a blanket or a rug. No. Rug burn is worse than this.

"M'fine." She brings him down, a gentle press of her hand to the back of his neck as she leans up to meet him halfway. They'll always do this. Meet halfway and she's tired of things getting in the way. No more. She kisses him softly, lazily. A sweep of her lips over his. "I'm sorry."

"I am too."

"I have a doctor's appointment set up for next week, you'll be there?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

"Good. Cause I'm not sure I could...I don't want to this alone. I don't want to fight Castle. I just - we're having a baby and yes, I'm happy but it also scares me."

"And your instinct tells you to run, to hide, to push people away." She wishes he was wrong but he isn't. It's what she's always done. She hides things away, buries herself in something so she doesn't have to deal with the emotions. "And I let you. I let you come here alone."

"No, that's not...I wish I was easy." She catches his frown, traces his pout with her fingers. "You asked why I'm always so difficult - I wish I wasn't."

"Maybe I love difficult, complicated, stubborn and strong women - well _woman_. Just one. It's who you are and it's who I fell in love with."

"Not trying to change the subject but can you please move? My back is starting to hurt." He mutters an apology, rolling to the side before pushing himself up and she might let her eyes linger on his backside for just a few moments.

Her shirt falls back into place when she raises up into a sitting position, a wince escaping as some unknown part of her spine pops. She's too old for this. And if she's too old then he's definitely too old. A vice tightens in her chest when she looks around at the boxes, the ones piled on the couch and stacked up in the floor. It reminds her of the last time they had sex. Before she left for a month - before she knew about their baby.

It's different this time, more relaxed now and as she stands on shaky legs, she wonders it this is symbolic of something. The universe telling them things will work out. Does she even believe that kinda stuff? Not really. But the baby growing inside of her is a sign. She'll admit that much. Because there's no way something bigger isn't a part of its creation. Something suffocating like being so in love with another person that you do stupid things. She's definitely at that point.

She grabs her shorts from the floor, slides them up her legs as he pulls on his pants. And then she's trying to help him move boxes from the couch, trying to clear space for them to sit but he takes it from her quickly, shakes his head.

"Don't lift things - you're pregnant."

"Castle, it weighs maybe six pounds." Or less. It's not heavy at all but he doesn't give it back, just sits it in the floor and moves two more before she can even reach for them.

He's the first to sit, grabbing her hand and pulling her down to join him. She bumps into his side, his arm wrapping around her waist to keep her there. She wouldn't have pulled away but he anchors her anyway and she knows that he's still unsure of things. Honestly so is she but when the hand not located on her hip moves to caress over her stomach she can't stop the wave of love that crashes over her. Drowns her, pulls her down into the never ending abyss as she finds his warm blue eyes.

"We can do this, Kate. I'm still...we're both still...but we can do this."

"I know." She does. Because they're them. It's what they do. They push too hard, retreat like cowards to lick their wounds, they bleed, they mend, they heal. "I am sorry, Castle and I know it's not enough."

"It's not because you took the job, you know that right? It was a great move for you career wise. That's not why I wouldn't answer when you called or why I fought you so hard on it." She's heard him say it before, but she lets it sink in nonetheless.

"I don't -"

"Our relationship won't work if we keep doing this to each other. Not including one another. I've done it too - I know I have."

"I want it to work, Castle, I want our baby to have both of us."

"Either way, he or she will have two parents. I'll always be here but we have to want more." Fear builds within her, creeping out of her bones, leaking into every nerve, every vein. She doesn't like when he talks like this. When he justifies how they'll act when they aren't a couple anymore. She hates it. She's hated every second of being away from him for a month and now she just needs the reassurance that they'll make it. That they can handle having a baby and raising their son or daughter in a stable environment. "I want more."

"So do I."

"Maybe - maybe we should see someone to help us sort through things."

"You want to go to counseling - like marriage counseling?" She's not sure how she feels about the idea but she can see the pinch in his brow, the worry in his eyes. He doesn't seem too thrilled over it either.

"Do you want to get married?" And that question has her gulping down air, opening her mouth to say something and no sound comes out. Nothing. Not a word and then he smiles softly, timidly and she realizes that she does. She wants to marry him but not right now. Not today. Not for awhile. "We could try it."

"_Try_? I've told you I'm a one and done type. I don't -"

"I meant the counseling."

"Oh. Uh, yeah...we could give it a go I guess. If we don't like it then no harm done, right?" She's been in therapy before, with Burke. This shouldn't be too different. And they're already back on the right track - this could only help. At least that's what she's hoping for. Because if it's something he thinks they need then she'll do it.

She'll make the effort.

"So, do you want to get married?"

"If this is you proposing Castle, I expected more flair." She's teasing, he's smirking and it feels so good to be back to this. To be falling into normal patterns. Well, not as normal now that he's caressing her stomach - her still flat stomach. It's a bit strange to imagine him doing this when it starts to expand. Oh. That's strange too, the fact that she's going to end up with a round stomach.

"I don't have the ring with me - not proposing, just asking if it's something you see us doing."

"What do you mean you don't have it_ with_ you?" She knows what that means before he ever confirms it with nervous chuckle. "Castle, you bought me a ring?"

"Couple months ago." And she doesn't even care about the packing anymore or talking, she's on him. Mouth pushing into his, throwing her leg over his lap to straddle him. He's committed. He loves her. She loves him. They can do this. They can be in a relationship and expecting a baby. They've been through scarier situations. Guns in faces, bodies in freezers, bombs.

Although something tells her the tiny being growing within her is going to be more terrifying than any bomb she's dealt with. Any near death experience they've lived through. The moment he touches her cheek, she smiles into him, reveling in how good it feels to just go for it. To not walk on eggshells around him and be afraid to touch.

Touching is what helps them heal.

**a/n: Next chapter is the FINAL chapter in this part of the journey. There will be an Epilogue that's multiple chapters though - almost a sequel but not quite. It's called "Our Strength" Keep an eye out, I won't be posting it for a little while though.  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I'm still poor...this is a no.  
**

**A/N: Several things have happened lately. And I spent Monday (when I started this chapter) pretty upset about the fact that I'm stuck where I'm at for at least two to three years unless I suddenly become rich so...after sobbing most of that day I decided to put on my big girl panties and finally finished this. Here ya go. The final chapter of Make.  
**

She's nervous when she wakes in his bed, stretching and curling her toes against the warm legs tangled with her own. It's a ball in her stomach, something that twists and churns but it isn't as bad as morning sickness. She feels okay. She's not going to get sick yet, she's just...excited and worried. Today is the day and she doesn't know if this is really something they should be doing. But things have been better, going in a direction she likes and she wants to keep it that way. She wants to continue waking with her nose buried against his shoulder and legs tangled into his because she got too cool in the middle of the night.

She wants to always breathe him in, nuzzle into his skin with her lips ghosting against him until he stirs. That's why they're doing this. Both of them making an effort to keep what is rightfully theirs. She kisses him - the warmth of his collarbone against her mouth. Inhaling his scent one last time before she pulls back to watch him blink against the light of day.

"Morning."

"Hey," Her limbs are still lax and lazy, slow to move when his shoulder presses into hers, forcing her to lie back against the pillows, and let him hover above. She knows where his hand is going before it ever bunches in the fabric covering her ribs.

It doesn't surprise her at all when his fingers slip beneath, cover her stomach as he rests his palm against her skin. She's getting used to this. The way he strokes over the non-existent baby bump. Hands sliding to find nothing but the smooth flat plane. Soon though. She knows that soon there will be proof of her pregnancy. A sign of life.

More so than the one they're getting today. It'll be more than just the delight dancing in his eyes as he watches his hand, it'll be amazement, wonder, everything she already feels at just the thought of her middle expanding to accommodate their baby. It'll be his heart seizing in his chest, the way hers does as he scoots down in the bed, presses his lips against her stomach.

"Big day." It's a whisper into her, warm and promising.

"Yeah." It is. It's a rather important day on so many levels. They see their baby for the first time and then it's off to marriage counseling even though they aren't married. But they're trying it. Trying to be better, to talk more. "We need to get up, get ready."

And for once, he doesn't complain, doesn't try to get her to stay in the bed just a few more minutes. He's the first to hop up, stumble around in his post sleep haze as she sits up, stretches slowly, arching her back and just taking her time. It's still weird. To see her things mingling with his. To see so much of herself here in his home. She doesn't want him to know that she likes it, that she's considering her options. Wondering if maybe she shouldn't leave at all. Maybe she could stay here, with him, and with their child.

Maybe this is where she was supposed to end up all along.

She doesn't move from the mattress until she hears the shower, the water raining down and she wants to join. Wants just a few more minutes of his time. That's when she pushes herself up, heading for his dresser. Knowing that the third drawer has some of her shirts in it. But her hands pause as she reaches, her eyes locking on the first instead of the third. Words echoing in her head and before she can talk herself out of it, she's pulling it open, rifling through his underwear in search of a box.

She just wants to see. But she should know better. She should know that it's not hidden amongst his socks. There's still a slight pang of disappointment when the drawer proves empty of any small boxes. Nothing.

She hears him before she sees him. Doesn't even try to hide what she's just done, only turns to his towel clad form when he emerges.

"Hey, I thought you were joini- Kate?"

"Where's the ring?" The shock of the question has him reeling. She can see it. The way his eyes widen and his lips quirk. She's surprised him but she wants to know. She needs to know. She needs to hold it, see for herself that it exists. "You said you bought...I just wanted to see it."

"Are you asking me to propose to you?"

"No. Not right now anyway." He seems satisfied with the answer, grinning as he points to the books lining the wall. Her eyes follow searching but all she can see are titles, spines and books of all sizes. "Wha -"

"Just look." So she does, stepping closer, eying the selection until she catches it. The title that she's pulled from this very shelf multiple times, her favorite. It's sticking out just a bit and her fingers are trembling when she reaches for it. Her heart galloping as she tugs it gently from its place and her breath stuttering to a halt when she sees the box tucked behind it.

She doesn't reach for it. Doesn't try to open it. She just stares for a moment. Letting it sink in that he really has bought her a ring, that he has thought about marrying her and that's enough to make her realize that every bit of their relationship is worth this. Every up and every down. Every fight. Every kiss. Every touch. All of it has led to this and to the baby she's carrying.

That's enough. And she realizes she is asking. She's asking because she wants it on her finger and she tosses a look over her shoulder, gives him a smile. They're done running and letting things get between them. She's done and she knows he is too. Oh they'll fight. There will be so many fights and so many opportunities to make up. She wants it all. The anger, the hurt, the love, the laughter. Every single bit of it.

"I lied, Castle." She grabs the box, places the book back on the shelf before she turns around. He's still dripping, standing in just a towel and for some reason just the thought of the appointment, the fact that they're both willing to try and better their relationship has her stepping closer. "I lied."

"Wha -"

"I'm asking." Her smile is widening with every step, spreading across her face as she closes the distance and pushes the box into his hands. And that's when it slips out of her mouth, catches them both by surprise as the words leave her tongue. "Will you marry me, Richard Edgar Castle?"

"You're proposing to _me_?"

"Looks that way." And she's never thought he'd be pouting in a moment like this but she catches the pinch of his brow, the way his bottom lip pokes out just a bit. Begging to be kissed. So she does. She pushes up on her toes, captures it between her teeth. A brief nip and a soothing slide of her tongue before she's pulling back, meeting his eyes. "All you have to do is say yes."

"But I had a plan."

"Castle, I don't care if you're down on one knee or if we're out at some - "

"It was going to be big and intimate."

"Still can be. This can just be the proposal of the proposal." His eyes widen, eyebrows raising and a smirk forms. She knows that smirk. "I mean there's no reason you can't have your moment too. This is making me sound crazy, can we just get back to the original question?"

"It's a good thing I love crazy."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." And then she's on her toes, pressing her excitement into his mouth with a touch of her tongue.

* * *

He's confused by her. Always has been but this might just take the cake. He doesn't fight it, the way she arches into him, her mouth hot and greedy. He matches her. Letting her know that this is okay - that they're okay. And he's the one who drops the box - a clunk sounding as it hits the floor - his arms gathering her up.

She's a mess. But he's always known this. Always seen right through her tough exterior to the woman and girl that linger inside. He's a mess too. And maybe that's why they work. Why they can be together after tearing each other to shreds. Using words they don't mean and throwing accusations around like there's no tomorrow. Maybe she's perfect for him because her flaws make up for his.

They don't match and that's okay. They aren't opposites - not really - but they aren't the same either. And that's why he's been planning to ask her to be his wife. That's why he wanted to chase her, show up in DC and just blurt it out. That question was going to be his sword going into battle. Prepared to fight for what they have.

Things didn't turn out the way he'd planned. But she's pushing back into the bathroom, pulling the towel from his waist and it doesn't matter. Everything else can wait. He just got proposed to.

And when they're a few minutes late for their doctor's appointment, it isn't a big deal. The waiting room is full and they have to sit for another twenty before her name is called anyway. The tears that fill her eyes when she sees their baby is one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen and the nervous clench of her fingers around his have him pulling their hands up to his mouth, pressing his mouth to the back of hers.

He doesn't think of the fight that led them here. He won't dwell on the past. And that's what it is. It's history and if they have a shot of making this work then they both have to let it go. And the little thing that looks like a bean solidifies their future.

There's only a fifteen minute window for them to drive to another location, to spend time with a doctor of another sort and it isn't until they're in the car, her hand seeking his thigh and her eyes glued to the picture in her other, that he lets himself feel the full weight of everything he just witnessed. They're really having a baby. He saw it. A black and white grainy thing that's tucked away safely inside of her and it makes him choke.

"Looks like an alien." It's the first thing she's said and he finds himself chuckling. "Definitely takes after his father."

"His?"

"Well I can't call the baby an 'it', that's just...cold." He wonders if this means she prefers a boy to a girl. He's happy either way.

"It could be a girl."

"I think I'd like that." It's the wistful smile he catches on a glance. The one she has as she places the ultrasound photo in her lap. "But a little boy would be just as amazing."

A beautiful tilt of her mouth, the corners raising and a love filling her eyes. He almost swerves off the road. Quickly corrects himself and returns his attention to the appropriate place. This woman is going to be his wife. It's almost amusing - the fact that they're already going to couples therapy. Marriage counseling and she's not even wearing the ring yet.

But when did they ever do anything the right way around? It's always been push and pull. A twist of normal mixing with something purely them and that's okay. Because even if it looked as though things were over - they weren't. Neither of them can let go and that's the thing marriage is made of. A bond - a love - strong enough to make it. Even when they don't necessarily _like _each other, the love is still there. And that's what makes this worth it. At least, that's what he believes.

And judging by the curl of her fingers, the tightening of them around his thigh, she does too.

**a/n: This story might be one of my most reviewed chapter wise. Love you guys for that.  
**


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